


Sometimes We Don't Return Home

by angededesespoir



Series: Mc76 Week [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Multi, fluff kinda i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9307565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angededesespoir/pseuds/angededesespoir
Summary: Reunions can go in various ways.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _For Day 3- Reunion & Day 1- Past/Then & Now. (For clarification, in the first part, Jesse is meant to be 23.)_
> 
> _Whelp, I haven’t been feeling well, so I’m behind. But here we go~_
> 
> _(Can be read on[Tumblr](http://angededesespoir.tumblr.com/post/155801047690/sometimes-we-dont-return-home).)_

It’s been a rough mission. Three months out in the middle of a desert, intense heat wrecking havoc with his body; sand caking into his skin, blowing into his eyes; long nights, and even longer days. 

And the worst part is that he hasn’t been able to see Jack in all this time, has only gotten to hear his voice (not even talk to him) over a radio that Gabriel tuned into every so often to give an update.

On arrival, his joints are somewhat stiff, but he still tries to walk through the halls of the base as briskly as possible. He treats this like another mission, but this time, this is one he is more than eager to undergo.

He’s about halfway to Jack’s office when he sees the man striding down the hall.

Jesse perks up, the aching of his muscles temporarily forgotten as he quickens his pace, lips curling into a smile as he catches the man’s eyes.

He’s greeted with a smile in return and he can feel his heart flutter.

He approaches, and before Morrison can say anything, Jesse’s grabbing on to his collar, pulling him close so he can smash their lips together.

He can feel Jack tense at the suddenness, then he’s relaxing, arms wrapping around him as he reciprocates.

By the time their lips part, they’re both slightly out of breath.

“It’s been awhile, Jack.”

Jack smiles, kisses his temple. “Indeed. I’m glad to see you’re back and unharmed. Though, you could do with a shower,” he teases, as his thumb smears the splotch of dirt on Jesse’s cheek. 

He smirks. “Ha! I reckon so. Bet I smell mighty bad.” 

“A bit.” There’s a kiss to his forehead. “But I don’t mind.”

He can feel himself being pressed closer and he curls into the embrace. They’re holding onto eachother, the only ones in the hall and, in that moment, it seems, the only ones in the world.

“You know,” Jesse says, pausing for a second to press his lips to Jack’s neck before he rests his head on the man’s shoulder. “You know, I don’t think you can judge me that much, Commander. You don’t look quite like your usual handsome self, either.” He tilts his head up. “Not that you ain’t still good-lookin’, but when’s the last time you had a good night’s rest, Jack?” His hand reaches up to stroke Jack’s cheek. “You have circles under your eyes bigger and darker than a groundhog’s shadow.”

Jack smiles, suppresses a laugh, as his hand wraps around Jesse’s, bringing it to his lips to kiss it affectionately. “I’m fine, Jesse. There’s just a lot of work to be done.”

He knows the man won’t admit to it, but he can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “Is the U.N. giving you trouble, again?”

Jack shakes his head slightly, smiling. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he tries to reassure. Jesse doesn’t completely believe him, but he lets it slide for now, focuses instead on the softness of Jack’s lips against his skin.

And just like that, it’s back to reality, back to the grind. They’re pulling away, Jack making to move past him.

“I need to discuss something with Gabriel. Are you going to be coming by later?”

Jesse smiles. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

\--

He places his gun back in the holster, moves closer to the man who still clutches his rifle, blood dripping down the soldier’s hand from a wound some young punk managed to give him, before McCree took him out.

He knows who this is; Angela confessed to him. He’s still trying to process it, trying to keep calm as his eyes focus on the red visor- another barrier between them.

“Howdy, Jack. It’s been awhile.”

He can see the man tense slightly. “My name’s not Jack.”

“I believe what they’re callin’ you nowadays is Soldier: 76, ain’t that right?” He takes a drag of his cigarillo; smoke furling in the air. “You’ve been off causin’ all sorts of trouble, just like me.”

The voice is gruff, curt. “The work never ends.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He takes another puff. “Why don’t you join us? You got the message, right? We can accomplish more if we work together.”

“It’s a mistake.” McCree tenses at the words, at the bitterness and the pain that flow through them. “I’m not letting it happen again. Too many people got hurt.”

He’s tossing the cigar on the ground, smashing it out, before he moves closer. He watches the man instinctively take a step back. “Jack, it wasn’t your fault. That was out of your hands.”

“You know nothing, kid. And if you were as smart as you once were, you’d know to get yourself back into hiding before it’s too late.”

It hurts. “And what about you? Are you just gonna keep running until you drop dead or someone creates an explosion that will take?”

The gravel crunching under his feet is almost too loud.

“I’ll do my duty until the day I die. A soldier’s work is never done.”

He gazes at him. “And why is this soldier acting like a one man army? I know you’re strong. I know you’ve refused our help many a time in the past. Hell, that’s part of the reason why we’re in this mess.” He takes another few steps forward. “If you’re so intent on not repeating past mistakes, then come back home. Learn to take our support. Dammit, Jack, this ain’t only your war.”

_He’s so close, so close._

“Let us fight with you for a change. You don’t gotta be alone in this.”

“Jack’s gone, kid. He isn’t coming back. Accept that, and stay out of my way.”

 _And so far._

“Jack, please.....”

But the man is already turning, breaking into a sprint. The only thing left behind, a small puddle of crimson in the dirt.

“.....I’ll wait for you.”

But the man doesn’t hear; he’s already long gone.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Fun Fact: I almost decided to just write the first part and end it on a happy note, but I enjoy suffering & I wanted to make another thing for Day 1's prompt & I already had the idea when I began the story, so.....voilà! Second part came into existence. :)_  
>    
>  _ ~~I'm so sorry. Why am I like this?~~_


End file.
